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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411652">An ongoing dispute</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats'>strawberriesandtophats</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>No such things as stability (only flux) [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Discworld - Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Disabled Character, Gen, Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:20:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411652</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stairs could not be outwitted, fooled or bamboozled.</p><p>One could not throw them into the scorpion pits for crimes against humanity. They could be destroyed, but that just made more problems for other people.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rufus Drumknott &amp; Havelock Vetinari</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>No such things as stability (only flux) [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758511</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An ongoing dispute</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stairs could not be outwitted, fooled or bamboozled.</p><p>One could not throw them into the scorpion pits for crimes against humanity. They could be destroyed, but that just made more problems for other people.</p><p>Some evenings, they provided a slight challenge that woke up the mind and reminded one that holding onto the rail was a sensible thing to do. But then there were the evenings when a person was almost defeated by them, forced to haul oneself up by the rail while holding onto the cane in the other hand, each step careful and following the other one. And the Patrician’s Palace had so many staircases.</p><p>Lord Vetinari, ruler of the city, had never thought that he’d dread staircases much, he’d not given them much thought before he’d been shot and began to use his cane. They had just been a path to follow to reach the floor above or below.</p><p>Just below the faint numbness that was all that was left of the medicine he’d taken earlier that day, pain did not so much hum as scream. He’d done all that could be done to soothe the worst of it, he’d done is stretching routine, he’d sat as much as he could during the day, he’d taken his emergency medication and even taken a short nap between meetings.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>Drumknott had quietly put the light wheelchair in easy reach as the day wore on, just as he’d brought in an extra cup or four of tea and placed them on the desk. He’d also stared Lipwig down when the man had lingered just a fraction too long inside the Oblong Office, something that had appeared to unnerve the Postmaster to the point where he turned on his heel and left so fast that there was a cloud of gold glitter in the air.</p><p>By that point Vetinari had sat down in the wheelchair, having heard the polite noise that Drumknott always made when Vetinari had turned the shade of whey while leaning heavily on his cane for a long while.</p><p>“It is almost midnight, my lord,” Drumknott said, looking up from sorting files. “A bath has been prepared for you and your nightclothes laid out on the bed.”</p><p>“Are you shooing me away and telling me that it nearing my bedtime?” Lord Vetinari asked, putting his pen away. “I am over fifty, you know.”</p><p>“I know, sir,” Drumknott said. “Nonetheless, I believe that is beneficial to your health and to the city that you are well-rested.”</p><p>“I see,” Lord Vetinari said. “Well, then. I bid you goodnight.”</p><p>“Good night, sir,” Drumknott said.</p><p>And then he waited, as patient as a mountain, until Vetinari had wheeled himself out of the office, his cane in his lap and all the paperwork in a stack on the desk. It would keep.</p><p>There was no comment when Lord Vetinari made his way down the stairs, one agonizing step at a time, internally thanking his boots for keeping his ankles steady and cursing at pain shooting up his leg all the way down.</p><p>It was only when the Patrician opened the door to his rooms that Drumknott nodded and bid him goodbye, walking silently away.</p><p>The bath was scorching, the heat melting away the worst of the tension in his hips, leg and back. As he let his mind drift, time worked with him to loosen the knots in his shoulders as well. Then the medicine he’d taken and injected before stepping into the bath kicked in, leaving him feeling well enough to wash his hair properly and massage his leg.</p><p>He dozed for a while as the water cooled.</p><p>Stepping out of the water felt like waking up, but after Lord Vetinari had wrapped himself in his bathrobe and the water had drained away, he wheeled himself towards his bed. A hot water bottle had been placed underneath the duvet, his nightclothes were fresh and smelled of soap.</p><p>Tomorrow, he would face the stairs again. But for now, he could rest.</p>
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